Tag Archives: broken

Mad Mary Lennox

I still remember the world
From the eyes of a child
Slowly those feelings
Were clouded by what I know now—
I still remember the sun
Always warm on my back
Somehow it seems colder now…

~*~

You were the tears I could never release.

I am imprisoned for centuries in an impenetrable ribcage, feeling the lemongrass harshly piercing my calloused feet but never allowing my deprived senses to take in their ethereal fragrance, holding blossoms by their fragile throats and quietly wishing for their efflorescent scarlet to return and splash colour on my filthy grey dress again, and forevermore shackled and watching the suspended horizon; but a mere intangible memory playing tricks on my open lips.

It was beautifully haunting. My demented secret garden.

You alone held the key to the concealed gates. That particular key was crudely carved from roses and bones, finely forged of romance and blood, chiseled from my consumed heart and threaded with my vulnerable veins, but akin to the overflowing ocean of the tears trapped within my tired, pondering eyes, you released me not.

But will I despair? Never. I shall merely smile at your vicious cruelty and wait for patience with all the grace and forgiveness the pallid moon has adorned me with. I’ll peacefully sleep on my bed of fallen feathers and butterfly ashes, and I shall awake again the next day, my marred body still glimmering in a breathtaking fairy tale iridescence, to tend to my own share of bruised paradise and to sing my laments to the ardent stars in the missing sky once more.

Because this exquisite garden shares my every pain, my solitary desire, my one secret, and not simply the very secrecy itself. This sanctuary is mine to hold in eternal memoriam, and in an infinite someday, these silver chains will rust off and unfetter, as the reckless revolution of this damned planet will halt and reverse, away from the sun. And when that happens, you will find yourself starving for sweet freedom and clawing at the iron bars haplessly, forever banished in my grotesque heaven, where all the scathing thorns bear your broken name and all the flowers wilt at the very despicable thought of your nonexistent soul.

And you shall weep. And I, finally, along with you.

~*~

Where has my heart gone?
Trapped in the eyes of a stranger
Oh, I, I want to go back to
Believing in everything
I still remember.

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Secret Catastrophe

i am lacklustre—

butterfly wings devoid

of floral-rose shade

lost within asteroids

.

i don’t seek cold seas

or gift-wrapped love

i wished desperate throes

from broken-bent doves

.

only pain lit in purple

unveiled under a night sky

all-consuming death—wanders

in my azure-blinded eye.

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Nephilim

i’m a thousand feet high

in a breathless paradise

and all i want to do is fall

.

but my shoulder blades

are bare and featherless

and my halo is but a faux

story in fairy tale books;

never broken, unexisting

.

so i tiptoe off the edge

of that endless blue

and i wait for the night to

let my jaded soul go

.

and i quietly whisper to

the clouds, the wind, and the stars

“please don’t catch me again.”

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Vega

I cried and listened to the rain in a rental car
One day somebody’s gonna go and get pushed too far
But now I don’t know what to say
Shall I deny my lungs their breathing rights?

~*~

it’s him—and the sunset

is as dusky as eclipsed eyes

overturning ocean waves

and my mouth will never recover.

a phantom in restless dreams

of a spellwork that went wrong

an escape from locked hospital wings

and a drink of cold sobriety.

oh, what a shame—i have none

and he has plenty to share

for his soul is a catacomb of

broken bones and thoughts that never

should have come to life

in the first place.

look how these lost hands adore

and spectacled visions strain

to read between all your blurry lines,

watching the once-fiery struggle

turn to death’s pugilistic ashes.

and buried underneath the detritus;

beyond the vaguer outlines of casualties

and heroes waiting for an answer,

lay a falling sunset—it’s him.

~*~

So give it up, give it up
Don’t let your mind slip away
Don’t drink, don’t get so high
Your beat’s too obvious
Not gonna say what you want me to say
I guess you’re right…

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here for nothing

Watching as the fire starts
I could be here all night
Never really wanted much
Only ever asked for flight
It could be you…

~*~

i have

no desire

to read

into your

messy mind

as if there

was anything

i would find

taking turns

at insults

like our

hurtful words

don’t mean

a thing

like it was

just another

bee sting

i’ll be okay

i have gravity

to keep my

heart right

where it

should be

but your ribs

are broken

and ransacked

yet don’t you

even see?

i have no

intention to

watch as you

trip again over

your own

callous tongue

but i have

to admit, it’s

actually

kind of fun.

~*~

And I could be fire
And I could be rain
And I could be caught in
Everything that’s in between…

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mental block. (4)

***

i’m just

a broken

mirror

and you’re

just an

ugly reflection.

***

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Filed under Poetry

Stressed or Sad (and Turn Out the Lights)

I brought a knife to a gunfight
I brought my words to a fistfight
I brought my hell to you
And now the boys are back
The boys are sad…

~*~

Let’s talk it it out and let’s talk too loud

And spare our breakdowns for the times it’s not allowed

Deprived of oxygen and choked off to sleep

But I’ll stay awake with you, I guess it’s what we need

‘Cause I may not be the best company but I know a thing or two

About being selfish and pretending to be a happy blue

The clever words and rhetorics make us laugh half to death

Drowning our worries in coffee until it’s dangerous to our health

Because it’s times like these when bitter tastes best

And the yonder moonlight is too delicate to get any deeper rest

But I’ll draw some stars and you can paint them in embers

With what’s left of the sky, we’ll write about what we can remember

We’ll scream about our addictions like loose patients in an asylum

Of the southern boys and houston beats until we’re both tired and dumb

I’ll sing a song out of tune, and your echoes fade to shadows

This is the art of somniphobia, we’re good as we are not tomorrow

Tonight we’ll starve the nighthawks and dehydrate the nadirs of melancholy

Until the petulant sunrise glowers at us for being too damn noisy

We were never meant to stay high in a world that’s not designed for the broken

But let calming music glow in your bones, we’ll be entertained until then.

~*~

You’re so cold
I’ve got to know what made you so
Scared to be alone?
I’ve got to know who chilled your bones
That wasn’t me…

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Cutting It Out

When I look in the mirror 
I know not who I see 
It’s hopeless, I’m hopeless 
But I’m not sorry for what that I’ve done
They had it coming, we all die someday
I do what the voices tell me to do…

~*~

I want to cut myself open

And come back inside

The recesses of my bones

Broken and pathetic tonight

I want to slit my smile

From my ear to my throat

And I’ll choke myself to sleep

Drunk on blood and bloat

I want to scar myself absurd

Hanging on to every word

That I wrote all over my hands

I don’t even understand

I want to be bruised or bitten

Torn apart and be smitten

By the throes that keep me up

They never want me to stop

I want to cut myself to shreds

Crawl back inside my cesspool head

I don’t want a body that betrays me

In a life that doesn’t even want to take me.

~*~

It’s always easier to kill 
When you’re already dead inside
Lock me up ’cause I’ve lost my fucking mind
Rock back and forth, it kills me, it thrills me
Rock back and forth, to see you dead…

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parroting

silence is a

distant bird

at the back

of my throat

daring to fly away

.

conversation

is a broken

winged dove

wishing to soar

yet never getting away.

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pink and gold

I knew she was lying
When she said, “You’re okay.”
You’re not okay, no
You’re not okay, are you?

~*~

sweetest surprises

wrapped in ribbons

and in sing-alongs

and broken wrongs

twisting my lungs

twisting like snakes

twisted apart, i am

like plaited braids

.

but it’s not about

the silver wrappers

or the pastel anchor

to see who’s better

tasting saccharine

tasting like venom

tasted it all, i did

like glitter in honey.

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Filed under Poetry